


The Vagabond

by MrProphet



Category: Sarah Jane Adventures
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	The Vagabond

Sarah Jane was working on a story in the city and so Maria’s dad had taken her and Luke to the cinema. It was not an entirely successful experiment as Luke was still struggling to grasp some of the conventions of the medium.  
  
“But even if someone could aim a pistol while falling from an aeroplane, they would have passed out some time after reaching terminal velocity,” he argued as they walked out through the shopping centre.  
  
“Clearly, willing the suspension of disbelief is a skill you have yet to acquire,” Alan noted.  
  
“I don’t understand,” Luke admitted.  
  
“You just pretend to believe it while it’s going on,” Maria explained. “That way it’s more fun.”  
  
“Oh. Is it?”  
  
“Just try it sometime,” Maria suggested.  
  
“Only not with this lot,” Alan warned. “Don’t look, don’t make eye contact.”  
  
Luke looked around. “With who?” he asked, just as his gaze caught that of a pretty young girl in a floral dress which Maria recognised as being rather old-fashioned. She was walking with a tall boy in a suit. They were a few years older than Maria or Clyde and they both carried small, hardback books.  
  
The girl smiled when she saw Luke and headed straight for him. “Hello,” she said brightly. “Do you have a few minutes to talk about the truth?”  
  
“Oh, yes,” Luke agreed.  
  
“Ah… Luke,” Maria warned.  
  
Alan half-stepped in front of Luke. “Please, we’re not interested in hearing any religious spiel,” he assured the girl.  
  
“I think your young friend might disagree,” the girl noted. She took a step forward, forcing Alan to move out of the way. “I’m Sister Kez’ka,” she told Luke, reaching out to lay her fingers on his forehead.  
  
“Luke Smith,” he replied, mirroring the gesture. “Whose sister are you?”  
  
“I am everyone’s sister,” she replied. “The Patriarchs teach that we are all one family.”  
  
“Trust me,” Maria said, “Luke isn’t a part of your family.”  
  
“You don’t believe in anything much, do you?” the boy observed. “I can tell; if you had faith of your own you wouldn’t react to ours with fear.”  
  
“Then what do you believe in?” Luke asked.  
  
Alan shook his head. “No,” he declared. “That’s enough. Sarah Jane will never let me hear the end of it if I let you get converted.” He took Maria gently by the arm and began to steer her away, but Sister Kez’ka caught Luke’s hands.  
  
“The truth of the Patriarchs is for everyone,” she assured him, pressing her book into his grasp. “It is always a joy to welcome a new brother – or sister – into the fold.”  
  
“Luke!” Maria called urgently.  
  
“I have to go,” Luke told Kez’ka.  
  
“I understand,” she assured him. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.” She smiled and walked away, leaving Luke to stare after her, and then down at the book in his hands. It had no title on the cover, only a stylised lightning bolt in a circle, embossed in silver.  
  
“Come on,” Alan called.  
  
Luke slipped the small book into his pocket and turned to follow.  
  
*  
  
Next day was Sunday. Clyde called around for Maria early and suggested that they head over to Sarah Jane’s ‘just to see if anything weird’s happening today’. Clyde drank tea while Maria and Alan ate their breakfast and told him about their run-in with the ‘Moonies’, as Alan insisted on calling them.  
  
“Yeah, but it’s not to worry,” Clyde said. “I mean, Luke’s like this supergenius and only stupid people join those cults.”  
  
“Hey! My Mum is a serial joiner.”  
  
“And say what you like about her, your Mum isn’t stupid,” Alan agreed. “No, those churches pick up the people who don’t have any direction in their lives.”  
  
“And remember,” Maria added, “Luke doesn’t have much life experience.” She shot a worried look at her father and added: “What with growing up in that orphanage.”  
  
“Didn’t you say he was raised by monks?” Alan asked. “Mind you, that kind of religious exposure can go either way.”  
  
“Um… whatever. And that Sister Kez-whatever…”  
  
“Kez’ka,” Alan reminded her. “Yes, she was very… persuasive.”  
  
“Persuasive?” Clyde asked. “Is that like old people talk for fit, Mr Jackson?”  
  
Alan laughed awkwardly. “Given that she didn’t look much more than sixteen, I think I’ll stick with my first choice of words,” he said, “although Luke certainly seemed pretty taken with her.”  
  
“He did not…!” Maria cut off quickly, before she could hand Clyde too much ammunition. “But, yeah; she pretty much had him eating out of her hand from the first smile. He was already acting like…” She thought for a moment. “Like you, Clyde.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Still; we got him away from her,” Alan said. “Maybe you two need to talk to him about religion.”  
  
“Oh, yes; because we’re so qualified,” Maria said. “But I suppose it’s us or nobody. Come on, Clyde.”  
  
*  
  
There was no answer at the door of number 13, so they let themselves in. Maria could hear voices in the attic; it sounded like Mr Smith going of on one.  
  
“…of one tribal sky god into four of the six dominant religions of the modern world,” the computer was saying as they came in. Luke was sitting on the floor in front of Mr Smith, with a pile of encyclopaedias spread out around him.  
  
“Hello!” Maria called. “Sarah Jane still not back?”  
  
Luke looked around. “Not yet. Mum called last night and said she had to stay on in London.”  
  
“You should have said; Dad would’ve cooked for you.”  
  
“I know,” Luke replied. “That’s why I didn’t say.”  
  
“Oi! Cheeky,” Maria snapped. “So, what’s this? Extra homework.”  
  
“I’ve been reading up about religion,” Luke explained. “I thought I should have some basis for comparison.”  
  
“Comparison with what?” Clyde asked.  
  
“With this.” Luke held up the book.  
  
Maria was surprised how angry she felt. “When did you get that?” she demanded.  
  
“Sister Kez’ka gave it to me,” Luke explained. “I read it last night.”  
  
Clyde snatched the book out of Luke’s hand and flipped through it. “Whoa!” he exclaimed. “You got digits!”  
  
“I have twenty,” Luke replied, wriggling his fingers.  
  
“No, I mean…” He held out the book to Maria, open at the flyleaf. “You got her phone number.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“That’s just a switchboard for the church,” Luke said.  
  
“And what church is that?” Clyde asked. “The Church of the Hot Weirdos?”  
  
“She wasn’t hot,” Luke assured him. “She was wearing a sort of light cotton dress; given the weather yesterday she would have been very comfortable.”  
  
Clyde shook his head sadly. “You miss so many of the truly important things in life, Luke.”  
  
Maria slapped him on the arm. “I’m pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose this time. Anyway, at least you’re looking at this Church of the…”  
  
“It’s called the Kindred of the Tin Vagabond,” Luke replied.  
  
“Yeah; well, at least you’re looking at it sensibly. Religion isn’t something to rush into.”  
  
“I’m not sure this is a religion,” Luke said. “Religions are based on faith; on nebulous prophecies and unverifiable promises. This is much more… concrete. I’ve had Mr Smith checking up on some of the observations in the Book of the Patriarchs; they can all be verified.”  
  
“A few astrological signs…” Maria began.  
  
“Not just signs,” Luke assured her. “Events. Alien events; invasions and visitations and all the things that no-one knows about except UNIT and Torchwood… and Mum. I think that’s a genuine chronicle.”  
  
“No, no, no,” Maria argued. “It’s just clever hype.”  
  
“Have you read it?” Luke asked.  
  
“No, but… Luke; you don’t understand how these things work.”  
  
“I think I do,” Luke assured her, gesturing at the books. “Mr Smith has taught me all about the psychology of religion, as well as aspects of creed and dogma from almost fifty different faiths.”  
  
“But it’s not something you can learn from books,” Clyde told him.   
“Trust me, Luke; I remember my first rock concert.”  
  
“This is relevant how?” Maria asked.  
  
“Look, trust me here. A big gig is like a religious event. When my Dad took me to see… that concert.”  
  
“Ooh! Who was it?” Maria asked. “Clyde Langer went to an uncool gig? Say it isn’t so.”  
  
“Yeah, well that’s what I thought,” Clyde admitted. “I mean, this was just before Dad… Anyway, I thought: ‘Bon Jovi; talk about trying too hard and failing.’ But then we got there and there were all these people, and yeah, the music was as lame as anything, but the atmosphere was…” He shook his head. “This doesn’t go outside this attic, but I… I was singing along to ‘It’s My Life’.”  
  
Maria burst out laughing.  
  
“Yeah, alright; but the point is, Luke, that you can be all clued up about religion and know up here” – he tapped his forehead – “that it’s all bunk, but if you get surrounded by enough people telling you we’re halfway there, you will start to believe that you’re livin’ on a prayer and I can’t believe I still remember that.”  
  
“You see,” Maria told Luke.  
  
“So, you thought you’d organise an intervention?” Luke asked. “Because I talked to someone who’s interested in the truth?”  
  
“She’s not interested in the truth,” Maria insisted. “She’s interested in one very biased account.”  
  
“You haven’t read it,” Luke challenged again. “Mr Smith; tell them.”  
  
“While the conclusions drawn by the Book of the Patriarchs are a matter of pure interpretation, as a factual record it is significantly more accurate than most history text books,” the computer confirmed. “Whoever the Patriarchs are, they have access to very accurate and comprehensive data.”  
  
“Alright,” Maria allowed, “but that just means we need to investigate, not that we should buy a set of saffron robes and learn the chants.”  
  
“I know that,” Luke promised, “and I’m not saying we should sign up, but there’s a sort of information fair this afternoon. We should take a look and see what the Consanguinity of the Tin Vagabond is all about.”  
  
“See what they’re selling,” Clyde said.  
  
Maria gave Luke a quizzical look. “How do you know about this ‘information fair’?” she asked.  
  
“Kez’ka told me,” Luke explained. He held out a slip of paper for Maria to see.  
  
“You did get her number?”  
  
“She slipped it into the book,” Luke explained.  
  
“You’re a sly one, Smith,” Clyde crowed approvingly.  
  
*  
  
The Kindred of the Tin Vagabond appeared to be doing well. The ‘information fair’ – which proved to be more of a rally – was held in an old theatre in town and it was packed.  
  
“I guess we just squeeze in at the back,” Clyde complained. He pushed his way along the row and Maria followed, but Luke felt a hand grasp his and hold him back.  
  
“You came,” Kez’ka said with a smile. She was wearing a loose, white robe, as were the other siblings of the Kindred.  
  
“Yes,” Luke agreed.  
  
“I’m glad,” she said. “Come up to the front; you’ll be able to see better.”  
  
“My friends…” Luke began, but Kez’ka held his hand tight and stopped him going after them.  
  
“They’ll be fine,” she told him. “Come and stand by me,” she invited with a broad smile.  
  
Luke was dumbstruck for a moment. “Alright,” he said at last.  
  
*  
  
“Where’s Luke?” Maria asked.  
  
“Search me,” Clyde replied. “There’s so many people in here I’m not sure where I am. You’re not still worried about him, are you?”  
  
“More so than ever. Remember what you said about having enough people chanting at you?” Maria nodded to the white robed figures standing around the sides of the auditorium. “I think they’re planning to do plenty of chanting.”  
  
“Uh-oh! And I just spotted Luke with his hand in the honey trap.” He pointed to the front of the crowd. “Wow! She is…” Clyde caught Maria’s pointed gaze. “Erm, persuasive.”  
  
*  
  
“So, what actually happens here?” Luke asked.  
  
“One of the Patriarchs will descend to speak to us,” Kez’ka explained. “Then we have the second stage set up with separate booths where brothers and sisters of the Consanguinity can answer any particular questions that the audience might have.  
  
“Of course, if you have any questions you can ask me,” she added.  
  
“Thanks.” Luke looked up at the stage. “So when you say descend…”  
  
A brilliant cascade of light streamed down onto the stage. Within the light a form resolved; the figure of a man in a black robe with gold embroidered hems and sleeves.  
  
“You are in luck,” Kez’ka breathed. “It is the Black Patriarch himself who is to speak!”  
  
“And who is the Black Patriarch?” Luke asked. “Besides being someone with access to quantum-compensated subatomic matter transmission technology?”  
  
She smiled at him encouragingly. “You have an intelligent, questioning mind; the Kindred need people like you.”  
  
“But you still haven’t answered my question,” he noted.  
  
“The Black Patriarch and the White Patriarch are the foremost servants of the Shining Patriarch, who is the Prophet of the Tin Vagabond itself. But listen to him now, and ask your questions later.”  
  
*  
  
Sarah Jane let herself in and set down her bags. “Luke!” she called, but there was no reply. She went through to the kitchen and checked for notes on the fridge; there was nothing, which was unusual, and worrying. If Luke didn’t want to leave a note in the open it usually meant that he had gone with Maria and Clyde to investigate something that casual visitors should not read about.  
  
Not that Sarah Jane had many casual visitors.  
  
Sarah Jane jogged upstairs to the attic. “Mr Smith,” she said. “I need you.”  
  
With his usual fanfare, Mr Smith unfolded from the chimney breast. “Good morning, Sarah Jane,” he said. “Was your investigation successful?”  
  
“Disappointing,” Sarah Jane admitted. “Corporate corruption, vice and sleaze. It’s a good story, but no aliens; just bad people.”  
  
“I am sorry, Sarah Jane.”  
  
“I’m sure I’ll survive, and at least it’s a story I can sell. Did Luke leave a message before he went out?” she asked.  
  
“Yes, Sarah Jane,” the computer acknowledged. “I shall play the message for you now.”  
  
The screen flickered and Luke’s face appeared. “Hi Mum,” he said. “We’re going off to a sort of…” He broke off and turned away. Maria and Clyde moved into view and they held a huddled discussion. Luke nodded and turned back to the screen: “To a new age fair. We should be back by six. See you.”  
  
“Mr Smith, what is this ‘new age fair’?” Sarah Jane asked. “I don’t like how long it took Luke to think of what to call it.”  
  
“It is a recruiting fair held by the Kindred of the Tin Vagabond, a religious movement founded by a group called the Patriarchs.”  
  
“What?” Sarah Jane demanded. “And you just let him go off? You know how impressionable he is.”  
  
“With respect, Sarah Jane, there is very little I can do to curtail your son’s movements. My data access, processing and storage facilities are second to none, but physically speaking I am, to all intents and purposes, a wall.”  
  
“Right, yes,” Sarah sighed. “So, what do we know about this Kindred?”  
  
“They purport to be a group offering knowledge of alien activity,” Mr Smith explained, “but I have been conducting further research into the movement since Luke’s departure. It appears that the Patriarchs themselves may be alien in origin. Energy signatures conforming to transmat technology have been detected at several Kindred information fairs, and the person who spoke to Luke, Maria and Mr Jackson used the name Kez’ka.”  
  
“Kez’ka? That doesn’t sound like a human name at all.”  
  
“Indeed not. The only matches in my database originate from the Mechassiah Cluster.”  
  
Sarah Jane hesitated, torn between hurrying after Luke and staying to learn as much as possible before confronting these Patriarchs.  
  
“I have also discovered a significant pattern in the movement’s early recruitment,” Mr Smith added.  
  
Sarah Jane sighed and took a seat on the attic step. “Alright,” she said. “Tell me everything.”  
  
*  
  
The sudden and dramatic appearance of the Black Patriarch had brought a hush to the theatre and, in that silence, he stepped forward and lifted his arms.  
  
“Brothers and sisters, friends old and new,” he said. “Welcome.”  
  
“Welcome,” the robed siblings chorused.  
  
Maria looked around again. “This is weird,” she said. “Look at them. They’re all…”  
  
“Young,” Clyde agreed.  
  
Maria nodded. “I thought they’d sent Kez’ka and her friend to the mall to snare kids, but they’re almost all teenagers.”  
  
“Some of you will be asking what the Kindred of the Tin Vagabond are,” the Black Patriarch said. “Others, I’m sure, will be asking what the Kindred can offer to you. However, the question that you should be asking is this: ‘what can I do for the world I live in?’  
  
“You must know, all of you, that this planet is just a tiny part of the universe. In the past few years Earth had been subjected to a barrage of alien invasions. Harold Saxon knew this, but his solution was alliance with another alien force; one which proved hostile.”  
  
The crowd nodded in agreement.  
  
“This is pretty radical stuff,” Clyde noted. “How come everyone’s taking it so calmly?”  
  
“It’s not so radical,” Maria said. “Everyone saw the President get disintegrated on CNN, after all. There’s only so many times the mass hallucination story could have worked. I think a lot of people are just waiting for someone else to be the first to say it.”  
  
“The Kindred of the Tin Vagabond offers a different course, but the essential goal is the same: The preservation of the Earth. Invasion is coming; an invasion such as we have never seen before. The Kindred of the Tin Vagabond exists to fight this invasion, not with alien aid, but with the power of the human spirit itself!”  
  
“The power of the human spirit!” the siblings chorused.  
  
“And I was beginning to think we were on the same page,” Clyde sighed.  
  
In her pocket, Maria’s phone began to vibrate. She pulled it out and checked the screen. “Keep an eye on Luke,” she told Clyde. “I need to talk to Sarah Jane.”  
  
“Will do,” Clyde promised.  
  
*  
  
“ _Hello, Sarah Jane_.” Maria’s voice came from the speakers on Mr Smith’s terminal.  
  
“Maria,” Sarah Jane said, trying to hide her relief. “What on Earth are you doing at a religious rally?”  
  
“ _Luke dragged us along. We thought we’d better try to keep him safe. Clyde’s watching him now._ ”  
  
“I’m not sure that reassures me much. Now, listen; Mr Smith’s been doing some digging and he’s found out something about the people who join the Kindred.”  
  
“ _Is it that they’re all under twenty?_ ” Maria asked, sounding pleased with herself.  
  
“Not exactly,” Sarah Jane replied, “although well spotted. No; what they all have in common is that they are orphans, legally cared for by the Kindred.”  
  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
“And not just any orphans…”  
  
“ _Orphans of alien invasion?_ ”  
  
“You’re getting far too good at this,” Sarah Jane scolded. “Soon it won’t be any fun at all explaining things to you.”  
  
“ _Sorry,_ ” Maria said unconvincingly. “ _It’s pretty obvious down here though. There’s a definite anti-alien message, even if the Patriarchs do have some kind of teleporter. They make the Kindred sound less like a cult and more like… an army._ ”  
  
Sarah Jane shook her head. “I don’t like the sound of this,” she said. “I want you to bring Luke and Clyde back here; I think we should do a little more hands-off research.”  
  
“ _I’ll try_ ,” Maria said, “ _but it won’t be easy. Luke’s right down at the front of the crowd with Sister Kez’ka._ ”  
  
“Ah, the famous Sister Kez’ka. Formerly Catie Simmons,” Sarah Jane explained. “Before she was taken in by the Kindred.”  
  
“ _So where did she get the name Kez’ka?_ ”  
  
“It’s Mechasiannic,” Sarah Jane said. “I’ll explain when you get back; just get Luke and Clyde back home as soon as possible.”  
  
*  
  
“Of course, you have heard this before,” the Black Patriarch went on. “The Catholic Church offered prayers when the Cybermen appeared in our homes, but we all know that it was not those prayers which sent them away.”  
  
Kez’ka slipped her hand into Luke’s and squeezed it tightly. He could sense fear and tension in her.  
  
“Are you alright?” he whispered  
  
“Yes,” she murmured. “It is… nothing.”  
  
The Patriarch went on. “What the Kindred offer is more practical and tangible, for our efforts are aimed not at appealing to an uncaring god, but to a very real force. The Tin Vagabond is an ancient and awesome weapon created by our distant ancestors in what conventional history would term prehistory. For some of you this may seem as fragile a promise as any offered by religion, but those willing to commit themselves to the cause may behold the Vagabond in person, and all shall see it when the time of return comes and the Vagabond appears in the sky above Earth.”  
  
*  
  
At the back of the auditorium, Maria managed to slip along to rejoin Clyde. “Did I miss anything good?”  
  
Clyde shook his head. “Ancient astronauts and prophecies,” he said. “It’s like Star Wars gone wrong. We’ve had a few walk outs, though I’d thought there’d have been more.”  
  
“Many thousands of years ago, the Tin Vagabond was created to be the guardian of the light,” the Black Patriarch was saying. “Since that time it has roamed the stars, seeking out its enemy’s, but now the Earth is in peril and it is coming home.”  
  
“He’s got a good speaking voice,” Maria allowed. “Anyway, Sarah Jane wants us back at Bannerman Road; Mr Smith has some stuff to tell us. You need to get Luke away from Sister Kez’ka.”  
  
“Me?”  
  
“Haven’t you been busy teaching him the honourable code of mates before dates?” Maria asked.  
  
“Right, yeah. But I’ve also been teaching him the honourable code of getting while the getting’s good.”  
  
Maria shook her head. “Boys,” she said.  
  
“I’ll text him, okay. You try and get down the front to speak to him.”  
  
“Chicken,” Maria teased, but she shuffled back along the row and began to move down the side aisle towards Luke. Before she could get very far, however, one of the white-robed brothers stepped out in front of her.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But please stay in your place. If people start pushing forward there could be an accident.” Maria recognised the boy who had been with Kez’ka the day before.  
  
“Across the void, the Vagabond calls to its Patriarchs and summons its children.” The Black Patriarch was building to a crescendo now, although the whole thing was still rather low-key. Maria could not easily see this particular rally degenerating into a riot.  
  
“I just need to speak to my friend,” she argued. “His mum wants him to come home.”  
  
She looked past the brother and saw Luke reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. Kez’ka laid a hand on his wrist. They exchanged a long look, and then Luke turned off his phone.  
  
“I’ll make sure he gets the message,” the brother assured Maria. “If you could please go back to your place.”  
  
Reluctantly, Maria went back to join Clyde. “I’m going to call Sarah Jane again,” she said.  
  
Clyde nodded. “I’ll keep watching in here,” he promised.  
  
“Don’t let Luke out of your sight,” Maria warned. “That girl’s done something to him.”  
  
“That’s called hormones, Maria,” Clyde assured her.  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
*  
  
Luke was frowning. “But there wasn’t a prehistoric spacefaring culture on Earth,” he argued. “None of the archives show anything like that. There were plenty of alien visits, even then, but…”  
  
“You seem very well-informed,” Kez’ka noted.  
  
“Well…”  
  
“Now, I know that you must have questions,” the Black Patriarch said. “Therefore, we should like to invite you to join us in the second auditorium, where the Kindred will be only too happy to answer those questions. And there will be tea and cake,” he added with a chuckle which was echoed around the room.  
  
“Come with me,” Kez’ka offered. “We can go through the backstage area and beat the rush.”  
  
“But…”  
  
“I said,” Kez’ka reminded him. “I’ll answer all of your questions.” She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him encouragingly. “Come on.”  
  
*  
  
Clyde saw Luke hesitate and then give in. Kez’ka turned and led him by the hand through a door beside the stage. Clyde tried to go after them, but the rest of the crowd were moving in the other direction. When Clyde shoved, his arms were gripped gently by two burly brothers and he was guided firmly back to the foyer.  
  
“Where’s Luke?” Maria demanded.  
  
“Somewhere in the back,” Clyde replied. “Come on; this way.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Stage door.”  
  
Maria followed, shaking her head. “How come you immediately think of the stage door?”  
  
“That Bon Jovi gig? Back stage passes.”  
  
“Oh, the dark secrets you hide, Clyde Langer.”  
  
“Well, now you know, and let us never speak of it again.”  
  
They ducked into the alley beside the theatre and hurried along to the stage door. There was no attendant, but of course it was locked.  
  
“You did ask for a sonic lippy for your birthday, right?” Clyde asked.  
  
Maria nodded. “I got a digital recorder.” She fished in the pockets of her jacket.  
  
“That won’t get us past the door.”  
  
“I know.” Maria pulled out her phone. “But I know a woman who can.”  
  
*  
  
It was dark and quiet backstage and Kez’ka led Luke slowly through the gloom. “Keep close,” she warned. “Easy to trip back here.”  
  
“I don’t think we’re heading for the second stage,” Luke noted.  
  
“We’re not,” Kez’ka admitted. “I thought we could just find somewhere quiet to sit and… talk.”  
  
“We can talk here,” Luke said. “I want to know why the Patriarch claimed that the Vagabond came from Earth.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the book that Kez’ka had given him the day before. “This is a scrupulously accurate record of Earth’s interplanetary encounters,” he told her, “so why make up something about prehistoric spacemen?”  
  
Kez’ka looked at him for a long moment. “Because of the message,” she explained. “The Kindred is about Earth fighting its own battles. How would it look if we admit too openly that the Vagabond is alien?”  
  
“Then why make a big thing about the human spirit?”  
  
“Because that’s what it’s all about,” she assured him. “The Vagabond and its machine children are nothing without a will to guide them. The Kindred will be that will.”  
  
“You’re talking about a psionic relay,” Luke noted. “But for that you’d need incredible willpower; no human could do it.” Secretly he thought that he might be able to, but he had learned that saying so would not make him many friends.  
  
“Which is why we do it together,” Kez’ka explained. “We join; like this.” So saying, she lifted her hands to his temple and laid her cool fingers on his skin. “Will you let me join with you, Luke?” she asked.  
  
“What do you mean, join?”  
  
“To touch minds,” she explained. “All of the Kindred learn how, so that we can be one when we command the Vagabond. May I show you?”  
  
The curiosity was altogether too much for Luke. “Yes,” he said.  
  
Kez’ka smiled beatifically. Her face darted forward and she brushed her lips against his. “Now,” she whispered.  
  
*  
  
Sarah Jane pulled up outside the theatre and hurried into the alley.  
  
“I told you to get him out of there,” she reminded Maria.  
  
“I know; we tried.”  
  
“They just gave us the slip is all,” Clyde said. “We were working against the crowd.”  
  
“Never mind,” Sarah Jane sighed. She took the sonic lipstick from her bag and aimed it at the door lock. There was a soft whistle and the lock clicked open.  
  
*  
  
Luke was still reeling from the unexpected kiss when Kez’ka joined her mind to his. He felt a sudden rush of incredible warmth and closeness, and then she was there, in his mind, her thoughts memories mingling with his, showing him a thousand of the Patriarchs’ speeches at once, their creed and her understanding of it, and her belief.  
  
“Let me show you the Vagabond,” she thought to him, and a moment later she did it. He saw what she had seen and knew that it was real as surely as she did.  
  
The Vagabond was vast, a colossal craft several miles in length. Kez’ka had never been aboard it, but she had seen it on the viewing screen of the Patriarchs’ star yacht and felt its massive presence in her mind. The yacht was a humbler vessel, but sleek and comfortable.  
  
“Then the Patriarchs aren’t from Earth,” Luke thought.  
  
“No,” Kez’ka admitted. “But they come to help us.”  
  
“How can you be sure?”  
  
“I…”  
  
Unbidden, a new stream of memory burst over Luke; steel hands and harsh, cold lights which cut down her parents in their home; a figure in black robes standing before her and driving the Cybermen away with a glowing staff.  
  
“The Black Patriarch; he saved your life.”  
  
“He was the only one on Earth then,” Kez’ka explained; Luke could feel the turmoil in her thoughts. “He could not stop the invasion, but he saved me. He says that it was fate that brought him to my house out of all the houses in the world; that I was just what the Vagabond would seek. I was open-minded enough to accept it and strong enough to aid it.”  
  
Just at that moment, she did not seem very strong; the memory of her parents’ murder was still a raw wound within her mind. Acting on instinct, Luke stretched out his own mind and wrapped it around hers, trying to send waves of warmth and comfort to soothe her.  
  
What he achieved was rather more dramatic.  
  
Kez’ka gasped in astonishment and pulled away.  
  
“Why did you break the link?” Luke asked, disappointed.  
  
She shook her head. “You haven’t learned how to join,” she told him. “I’ve trained longer than any of the other siblings and I showed you more than I meant to. Untrained, you were showing me  _everything_  about yourself. That wasn’t fair.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“You are so much,” she breathed. “So much thought and memory and… wisdom, but you are so young. Younger than me. And so…” She blushed.   
  
“What?”  
  
“And so pretty,” she giggled.  
  
Luke smiled. “You’re pretty too,” he told her. He was dimly aware that Clyde would have expected him to protest at being called pretty, but it did not seem important at that moment. Another memory from her mind floated up. “Catie,” he said.  
  
Kez’ka blushed. “Not Catie,” she said. “I prefer not to think of… that life. I don’t know why I showed you that. I suppose… I must really trust you.” She held out a hand to him. “Join us,” she offered. “Join me.”  
  
*  
  
Sarah Jane led the way through the backstage area, but there was no sign of Luke. The babble of voices from the auditorium had faded and was now replaced by a steady chanting.  
  
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Sarah Jane admitted. “Come on, this way.”  
  
They hurried up through the wings and onto the stage. The seating in this auditorium had long ago been removed, and in the empty stands a crowd had gathered. The stalls and refreshments had been cleared away and only about a fifth of the people who had attended the lecture remained, but those who had not left now wore white hoods over their street clothes and were surrounded by a circle of robes siblings.  
  
The Black Patriarch stood on the stage, his arms raised. The gold embroidery on his robe glistened and glittered with energy. Sarah Jane opened her wrist scanner and stared at the readings in amazement.  
  
“Brothers and Sisters!” the Patriarch declared. “Both old and new! Rejoice! The Kindred of the Tin Vagabond grows ever stronger and soon we will be a match for anything in the heavens. Now, let our new siblings be prepared for their first journey to the Cathedral of the Skies.”  
  
“Sarah Jane!” Maria gasped, pointing at one of the hooded figures in the crowd.  
  
“Luke!” Sarah Jane cried out.  
  
The Black Patriarch turned. “The public meeting of the Kindred is over,” he told them. “This is a most solemn and private moment.”  
  
“That is my son out there,” Sarah Jane insisted, “and I want him to come home with me  _right now_.”  
  
The Patriarch gave a benign smile. “He is free to leave with you.”  
  
Sarah Jane turned back to the crowd. “Luke, come back with me.”  
  
Luke shook his head. “No, Mum,” he said. “This is more important than you can imagine. The Kindred are right. The Tin Vagabond is coming. It passed through the orbit of Sedna almost a year ago and came within ten million kilometres of Mars. It crossed through Capricorn and eclipsed the Pole Star for a week. By now it should have been spotted, but its surface is so black it swallows up light and radar completely. Can you imagine…”  
  
The girl at Luke’s side – Sister Kez’ka, Sarah Jane presumed – took his hand and smiled beatifically. She looked, Sarah Jane thought, just the kind of girl she might have liked to see Luke bring home, but that did not make her the kind of girl she wanted to see him run off to the stars with.  
  
“Luke…!” Sarah Jane took a step forward, but the Patriarch held up his hand. Light flashed from his sleeve and Sarah Jane struck an invisible barrier.  
  
“He is free to go, but we will not allow him to be forced,” the Patriarch said.  
  
“He is  _my_  son!”  
  
“Then come with him,” the Patriarch invited. “There is room in our family for all.”  
  
“Not for me,” Sarah Jane assured him. “I don’t like your family and I will make it my business to stop whatever it is you are doing.”  
  
“We are saving the world,” the Patriarch laughed. “Stop us if you can.”  
  
“Just watch me,” Sarah Jane replied. She pointed the sonic lipstick down at the stage and squeezed the controls. At once, a trapdoor opened beneath the Patriarch’s feet and he dropped through.  
  
The invisible barrier was gone and Sarah Jane sprang down from the stage. “Luke!” she called, rushing forward, but the siblings blocked her path.  
  
Luke looked up from within the circle and met her gaze. “My name is not Luke anymore,” he told her. He exchanged a look with Kez’ka and then added. “My name is El’zak.”  
  
“Sarah Jane!” Clyde called in warning. She turned to see the Patriarch rise in stately fashion from the trapdoor, suspended in mid-air by his robe’s force fields.  
  
“Enough of this,” he said. “Kindred; we shall depart.”  
  
As one, the siblings turned to face inwards and joined hands to form a single, unbroken circle. Golden light flashed from the Patriarch’s robes. “We ascend to the cathedral!” he said.  
  
“Oh no you don’t!” Clyde exclaimed, and he leaped for the floating figure. Maria rushed after him, but even the weight of them both was not enough to bring him back down to earth.  
  
Sarah Jane took aim with the sonic lipstick and quickly dialled the setting to disrupt an energy field, but before she could trigger the device the Patriarch’s transmat activated. He vanished in a flash of light, carrying Clyde and Maria with him. Behind her, the Kindred – old and new – did the same, bearing Luke to the Cathedral of the Skies.  
  
Sarah Jane stood alone in an empty auditorium. “Luke!” she called out helplessly. “Luke!”  
  
*  
  
The Kindred were deposited by the transmat in a great, domed chamber, its transparent walls displaying a clear, dark sky all around them.  
  
“No atmospheric distortion,” Luke breathed. “We’re in space.”  
  
Kez’ka squeezed his hand and smiled proudly.  
  
“Welcome to the Cathedral of the Skies!” the Black Patriarch announced. “Kindred, these interlopers…” he turned to point at Maria and Clyde, but they were already off and running. “…will be dealt with,” he finished. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though in deep thought.  
  
“He is communing with the other Patriarchs,” Kez’ka explained.  
  
The dark eyes snapped open again. “Kindred, show your new siblings to their quarters. At the evening meal they shall be presented to the rest of their family.”  
  
“But how can there be an evening meal in space?” Luke asked. “Surely there’s no day or night here except what you decide there should be?”  
  
The Black Patriarch turned his gaze on Luke. “Sister Kez’ka; bring brother El’zak to the chapel. I think the other Patriarchs would like to meet him.”  
  
*  
  
Sarah Jane bolted up the stairs into the attic. “Mr Smith!” she called. “I  _really_  need you!”  
  
The computer unfolded from the wall with a truncated fanfare, apparently sensing Sarah Jane’s unease. “What is the matter, Sarah Jane?” the computer asked.  
  
“I need you to cross reference data and use it to locate an object in a powered, transorbital trajectory.” What she wanted to do was demand that the computer find and retrieve Luke, Maria and Clyde, but she knew that that was not within his power or hers; the only way to help the children was by finding the Tin Vagabond.  
  
“Go ahead, Sarah Jane.”  
  
“The object crossed the orbital path of Sedna a year ago. At some point in its journey it eclipsed the Pole Star for a week and it came within ten million kilometres of Mars. It also crossed the constellation Capricorn.”  
  
“Cross-referencing.”  
  
While star charts and projected paths flickered across Mr Smith’s screen, Sarah Jane placed her scanner in Mr Smith’s data tray. “I also got some readings from their force field and transmat technology.”  
  
The tray withdrew. “Full analysis of the readings will take some time, but they are consistent with Mechassianic technology,” Mr Smith announced. “As is this.”  
  
The screen shifted again, displaying the massive bulk of a great, black ship moving through the dark void of space.  
  
“Have you any idea what it is?” Sarah Jane asked.  
  
“Yes, Sarah Jane,” Mr Smith replied. “That is God.”

*

Clyde and Maria stopped running when they realised that no-one was chasing them.  
  
“I mean, that’s never a good sign, is it?” Clyde asked. “Either they’ve got something more important to do…”  
  
“Like ruling the world.”  
  
“…or they don’t need to chase us because we’re going right where they want us.”  
  
“Right,” Maria agreed. “I wish we could talk to Sarah Jane.”  
  
“Phone her.”  
  
“You heard Luke; we’re in space.”  
  
“Right,” Clyde agreed. “Probably not got much signal.”  
  
“Probably not.”  
  
“Okay,” Clyde said. “Then let’s find some sort of communications room.”  
  
“And how will we work out how to use it?” Maria asked. “This is an alien spaceship.”  
  
“But it’s being run by a human crew,” Clyde reminded her. “They must have it set up to be pretty user friendly, right.”  
  
“Right,” Maria agreed. “You’re not just a pretty face, Clyde Langer.”  
  
“Yeah; now let’s just file that away with the Bon Jovi concert on the list of things we don’t talk about.”  
  
*  
  
“The Mechassiah Cluster grew out of the mighty trade fleet of the Shal’teen Nomads,” Mr Smith explained. “Although grounded in a materialist creed, the Shal’teen came to feel that the lack of a spiritual life was a failing of their society. It was to meet this lack that they created the Mechassianic Creed: ‘God does not exist, therefore it is necessary for us to create it.’  
  
“Acting on this creed, the Twelve Shining Patriarchs laid down and created not one, but  _twelve_  gods for their people. They called these twelve the Mechassiahs, and built great bodies of metal to house their intricate computer minds. Each Mechassiah was a storehouse of information, but also a living mind capable of reason and understanding far in excess of any biological entity. They guided and ruled the people who lived and worked and worshipped within them.”  
  
“And the Vagabond is one of these Mechassiahs?” Sarah Jane asked.  
  
“The last of them,” Mr Smith replied.  
  
*  
  
“The Patriarchs can be stern,” Kez’ka warned Luke, “but they are always fair. Just tell them the truth and all will be well.”  
  
“Alright,” Luke agreed.  
  
“And remember,” she added, “I’ll be right with you.” She squeezed his hand tight and kissed his cheek.  
  
With a low hiss the great, round door in front of them irised open. Like the rest of the Cathedral-ship, the antechamber in which they had been waiting was walled in shining white and lit by a multitude of tiny, glowing panels. The room beyond the door, however, was as dark as night.  
  
As they walked forward, Luke could feel Kez’ka’s hand trembling in his. “You’ve seen the Patriarchs before, right?” he asked.  
  
“Never more than two at a time,” she replied nervously.  
  
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I’m right with you.” He surprised himself then by kissing her on the cheek.  
  
Together they stepped into the darkness and the door closed behind them.  
  
*  
  
“Someone’s coming!” Maria warned.  
  
Clyde grabbed her arm and pulled her into a small alcove.  
  
“We can’t hide in here,” she hissed. “He’ll see us as soon as he gets close.”  
  
Clyde thought fast. “Alright; side corridor, about ten yards back.”  
  
They ran as quickly and quietly as they could and then stopped still, pressed against the wall of the side passage and fighting not to breathe too heavily as the voice came closer.  
  
“…absolutely sure. The Shining One has spoken; the day of the Vagabond is here. We’re going to start shifting the cattle as soon as they’re through with this meeting, so get them all up from the surface.”  
  
The man who passed them was one of the first full-grown adults they had seen, aside from the Patriarch. He wore the simple, white robe of the Kindred, but Maria could see expensive shoes beneath the hem. He was holding an expensive mobile phone to his ear and that sleeve had fallen back to reveal a flashy wristwatch and glittering cuff-link.  
  
“Yes of course payments will be made earlier as well; the money is being wired to you as we speak. Just call you man in Zurich…”  
  
As he passed out of earshot, Maria and Clyde shared a look of disgust. “He’s like that Grantham bloke,” Clyde snarled. “Selling kids to aliens for profit.”  
  
“Kids?” Maria asked.  
  
“Well, what do you think he meant by cattle?” Clyde challenged. “I guess actually being locked in a crate changes your outlook on life,” he mused, when Maria looked appalled.  
  
“Okay; so why do the Patriarchs need people on Earth? They’re not like Kudlak; they look human.”  
  
“Administration?” Clyde offered. “If there aren’t many of the Patriarchs…”  
  
“They might need people to keep things ticking over.”  
  
“Book the theatres, organise the schedules, send out the kids to recruit,” Clyde went on. “And you know what?”  
  
“What?”  
  
Clyde took the phone from his pocket. “He had a signal.”  
  
*  
  
Sarah Jane was rummaging in the attic, trying to find anything that would be useful. “What happened to the other eleven Mechassiahs?” she asked. She checked a handheld emitter. “Metabellan light sculpture; pretty, but not much use.”  
  
“Each Mechassiah was programmed to be a god to its tribe. In time they became jealous of one another.”  
  
“Didn’t the Shining Patriarchs see that coming?” Sarah Jane abandoned two more devices. “No power; air freshener.”  
  
“They could not have predicted the complexity of their creation,” Mr Smith explained. “Indeed, it would have defeated the object of their project, which was to create a deity whose function would become ineffable.”  
  
“And what were they jealous of?” Sarah Jane wondered. “Why did I keep  _that?_ ” She discarded a long, trumpet-like object.  
  
“They were powered by the telekinetic and telepathic energy generated by the prayers and meditations of their tribe. It may be that the Mechassiahs coveted the prayers of the other tribes. The truth is now lost in the mists of history, however. Eleven of the Mechassiahs were destroyed in the Schismatic Wars and the twelfth set out into the universe to become a hermit and a hermitage.  
  
“The Tin Vagabond has since become an object of pilgrimage for many, but its location remained obscure. Until now.”  
  
“Until now,” Sarah Jane agreed, drumming her fingers on the table. She glanced down at a small, tubular object next to her hand. “Ah! Telepathic inhibitor.”  
  
“Sarah Jane. I have an incoming call from Maria Jackson.”  
  
Sarah Jane stood and faced the computer’s screen. “Put her through. Maria?”  
  
“ _Sarah Jane?_ ” Maria’s voice sounded faint, as though broadcasting from a long way off, or through interference.  
  
“Mr Smith, can you boost the signal?” Sarah Jane asked.  
  
“I am attempting to do so.”  
  
“ _Sarah Jane, is that you?_ ” The voice was clearer, but still quiet.  
  
“Yes, Maria; it’s me. Are Clyde and Luke with you?”  
  
“ _Clyde, yes; Luke’s still with the happy-clappy squad, but listen, we’ve got something to tell you._ ”  
  
“And I have a lot to tell you,” Sarah Jane agreed, “but most importantly I need to know where you are. Are you on the Vagabond?”  
  
“I have traced the signal, Sarah Jane,” Mr Smith said. “Maria Jackson is in orbit over the central Pacific Ocean. An energy distortion at this location suggests the presence of a cloaking device.”  
  
“ _Sarah Jane, we’re in space,_ ” Maria explained. “ _We’re in this ‘Cathedral of the Skies’, but they’re going to start moving people to the Vagabond soon. They’ve got people on Earth working for them to round up vulnerable children and teenagers and get them shipped up here.”_ ”  
  
“That’s terrible.”  
  
“ _No argument here. Sarah Jane; what is the Vagabond?_ ”  
  
“Short answer? A sort of mechanical space god.”  
  
There was a long pause. “ _Is there a longer answer that isn’t as scary?_ ”  
  
“Sarah Jane, if the children can take their telephonic devices to the control centre of the Vagabond and place them close to the control systems, I believe I can make direct contact with the Vagabond itself.”  
  
There was a moment’s pause and then Clyde said: “ _Did he just offer to hack God?_ ”  
  
“Not God; a god,” Sarah Jane assured him.  
  
“And no; merely to make contact,” Mr Smith added.  
  
“ _What do you need us to do?_ ” Maria asked.  
  
“Just get one of your phones near to the controls and call my number,” Sarah Jane said. “I’ll leave my mobile routed to Mr Smith.”  
  
“ _Anything else?_ ”  
  
“Yes. Keep your phones off until you need them; they could trace them. And be careful.”  
  
“ _Always,_ ” Maria promised.  
  
Sarah Jane sat in the silence of the attic. “Mr Smith,” she said. “Find me one of these people who are working for the Patriarchs.” She stooped and picked up the long trumpet. “I think I might have a use for this after all.”  
  
*  
  
The lights came on once they were in position; twelve spotlights displaying twelve robed men seated on a steeply raked bench. Luke felt like he was in court.  
  
The first six Patriarchs surrounded Luke and Kez’ka in a horseshoe, elevated about six feet above them. They wore plain robes in various metallic hues. Above and behind them sat three older men in bright robes – red, green and blue – decorated with silver embroidery. The next tier was given to the Black Patriarch and another in white, with the same gold-embroidered robes. Finally, too far up to see clearly, there was a lone figure whose robes seemed to shine with their own light.  
  
“The Shining Patriarch,” Kez’ka whispered with tears in her eyes.  
  
“Welcome, Brother El’zak,” the Black Patriarch said. “Sister Kez’ka says that you are a quite extraordinary specimen. As she herself possesses a quite remarkable intelligence and capacity for learning, we are deeply intrigued to see what you are capable of. Step forward, brother.”  
  
Kez’ka squeezed his hand once and then laid her hand on his shoulder to guide him forward. “Trust in them,” she said, her own perfect faith in the Patriarchs shining through the words.  
  
Luke took a few steps towards the bench, which towered over him like a cliff wall. The twelve faces stared down at him; twenty-two dark eyes and one pair which shone like stars. He felt that light lancing into his mind and cried out in agony.  
  
Darkness rose up to surround him, and as he fell into oblivion he heard a voice screaming his name.  
  
*  
  
“Right,” Maria said. “Step one, robes; we need disguises.”  
  
Clyde grinned.  
  
“And we are not going to knock anyone out and steal them. For starters, do you actually know how to knock someone out, or have you just seen it done in films?”  
  
“I’ve seen it done in… a lot of films.”  
  
“So the chances are pretty good that you’ll either hit them so hard you kill them or just hit them hard enough to annoy them. No; what we need is…”  
  
“Bleach,” Clyde interrupted. “Can you smell bleach?”  
  
“… a laundry,” Maria finished.  
  
*  
  
“Luke? Luke?”  
  
Luke drifted slowly back to consciousness. His head was resting on something warm and soft and a cool hand was stroking his brow. Slowly he realised that his head was in Kez’ka’s lap; there didn’t seem much hurry to move it.  
  
“Brother El’zak?” The Black Patriarch’s face suddenly loomed over him. “The Shining One conveys his deepest apologies; he never expected such… depths and became carried away in his enthusiasm. You were right, Sister Kez’ka, El’zak is a prime candidate.”  
  
Kez’ka’s hand sought Luke’s and squeezed hard. She was trembling again, but in excitement this time.  
  
“I think, Kez’ka, that you should be responsible for El’zak’s training,” the Patriarch went on.  
  
“Me?” The girl was almost overcome.  
  
“Yes, Kez’ka. Your skill in joining and meditation is second to none among the young Kindred and it is time you had more responsibility. Besides; El’zak’s training must be swift and it is clear that the two of you have already developed a close rapport. You will be among the first to make the journey to the Vagabond and you will conduct his training there.”  
  
Kez’ka gave a squeal of joy.  
  
“We’re going to the Vagabond?” Luke asked excitedly.  
  
“Indeed you are, Brother El’zak. You and Kez’ka will have a great role to play in our shining future.”  
  
*  
  
Sarah Jane disabled two security systems to get into he Kindred compound in North London. The door of the building was easy to open, but at the entrance to the siblings’ quarters she was seized by two large young men in white robes.  
  
“Ah, hello,” she said. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but: Take me to your leader.”  
  
Their leader was a man called Knox. Prior to his conversion to the Kindred he had been a ruthless advertising executive; from what Sarah Jane saw of his office, religion had made very few changes to his lifestyle.  
  
“Who are you?” Knox demanded. “Look, you broke in here, so if anything happens to you…”  
  
Sarah Jane reached into her pocket and produced the Metabellan light sculpture. A scintillating image of an eagle appeared above the emitter and flapped its wings. “Galactic Union Police,” she said. “I’ve been investigating your ‘partners’ for some time.”  
  
Knox looked down at the array of devices which had spilled from her handbag with a new wariness. “What were you trying to do?” he demanded.  
  
“Find out how you contact the Patriarchs of the Tin Vagabond,” Sarah Jane admitted. “I was going to use the mind probe to get the information from your brain.”  
  
“A… a mind probe?” Now Knox looked really worried.  
  
“Oh, yes; that thing that looks like an ear trumpet.”  
  
“What? This?” Knox picked up the trumpet and held it to his ear.  
  
“That’s right,” Sarah Jane said. “Just hold it there and sit very still. You might also want to send your guards out; to avoid signal interference.”  
  
“Out,” he ordered the guards. “Now.”  
  
They went, if not happily, leaving Knox facing Sarah Jane across the desk. “You’ve probably worked out by now that it’s  _not_  a mind probe,” she said. “In fact, so long as you have it in your ear, you must obey any instruction spoken into the trumpet, which is of course why I told you to hold it there and sit still,” she added, as he tried without success to move the trumpet.  
  
“Only speak when I tell you to,” Sarah Jane went on. “Now, tell me how the Patriarchs contacted you. Speak,” she added.  
  
*  
  
Hand-in-hand, Luke and Kez’ka stepped onto the transmat platform. Kez’ka’s excitement was almost boundless, and Luke could not deny the thrill of being the first humans to step aboard the Tin Vagabond.  
  
There was a flash and the Cathedral vanished around them, to be replaced by the dull, grey walls of the Vagabond.  
  
“It’s not as shiny as I might have expected,” Luke noted. “I wonder if even the Patriarchs have been aboard recently.”  
  
“Of… of course they have,” Kez’ka insisted. “Come on; we’ll find a training room.  
  
*  
  
“What do you think?” Clyde asked, throwing a kung fu pose. “Shaolin Master?”  
  
“More like towelling master,” Maria assured him. “You look like someone who’s been dragged along on their Mum’s spa weekend, and I should know.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“We all have our Bon Jovi concerts to bear,” she assured him. “Hoods up, or hoods down?”  
  
Clyde shrugged. “Hoods up is stealthy, but everyone else has theirs down.”  
  
“Down it is, then,” Maria agreed. “Let’s follow the herd.”  
  
*  
  
When she got back to Bannerman Road – leaving Knox writing out a full confession of his every wrongdoing, which he would fax and post to the police before finally forgetting everything that had happened since that morning – Sarah Jane found the one thing that she had hoped to avoid waiting for her.  
  
“Sarah Jane; have you seen Maria?” he asked. “She’s not been home and her phone’s switched off. I keep getting her voicemail.”  
  
“I… haven’t seen her,” Sarah Jane admitted. “Nor Luke or Clyde. I’ve just been checking out somewhere I thought they might be but…”  
  
Alan shook his head worriedly. “I was sort of hoping you’d dragged them along on one of your stories. At least I know you’ll always keep them safe.”  
  
“Oh, I’m touched… Look, if I speak to any of them I’ll get Maria a message to call you,” she promised.  
  
“Alright,” Alan agreed. “I’ll do the same with Luke, and I’ll get in touch with Clyde’s mum as well. I just hope they haven’t all gone and joined Luke’s cult.”  
  
“ _Luke’s_  cult?”  
  
“Sorry. We were leafleted yesterday; Luke seemed pretty struck with the girl who was doing the leafleting. I’m sure he’s okay,” he added. “They’ve got wise heads those three.”  
  
“Yes they have,” Sarah Jane agreed.  
  
*  
  
“This is a training room,” Kez’ka explained, gesturing around the perfectly cylindrical chamber. There were six cabinets arranged in a circle around the centre of the room. “These are training booths; they stimulate the psychic centres of the brain. Eventually you won’t need one at all, but for now it’ll just get things going.”  
  
“But I didn’t need one to join with you,” Luke reminded her.  
  
“No,” she agreed with a smile. “That’s what the Black Patriarch meant by our rapport. But now we need to go beyond that. I need to teach you to join with me… and then we join together with the ship.”  
  
*  
  
Maria and Clyde transmatted to the Vagabond with a crowd of siblings. They ooed and ahed, since that seemed to be expected, but like Luke they were underwhelmed by what they saw.  
  
“You’d think they’d at least run a hoover around if they were expecting guests,” Clyde muttered.  
  
A particularly large brother thrust a hand-held vacuum cleaner into Clyde’s arms and an equally oversized sister presented Maria with a duster and bottle of metal polish that she clearly couldn’t refuse.  
  
“You just have to do it,” Maria sighed. “You have to speak.”  
  
Clyde shrugged. “At least it gives us an excuse for looking around the ship.”  
  
*  
  
“Mr Smith…”  
  
The computer unfolded swiftly and with the barest minimum of fanfare. “Sarah Jane,” he said. “I am concerned by the readings which you retrieved.”  
  
“Let me guess,” Sarah Jane said. “The telekinetic energy resonance was the same as that generated by the human brain.”  
  
“More specifically with that of the  _teenage_  brain,” Mr Smith agreed. “The most likely explanation is that the Patriarchs are using the mental energy of their converts as a form of fuel.”  
  
“More than likely,” Sarah Jane assured him. “Mr Knox was very forthcoming. The Patriarchs offer psychic training to all of the Kindred. The exercises which they set  _do_  unlock a significant level of psychic potential in the recruits, but most of it is siphoned off through a network of distillation crystals in the training machines and stored – as you say – for use as fuel.”  
  
She took a crystal from her bag and put it on the analysis tray. “Tell me about that. How much are they taking?”  
  
“Analysing,” Mr Smith announced. “The telekinetic energy in this crystal comes from at least six sources. The levels taken from each subject would be wearying, but not dangerous. If, however, any subject had also been subjected to distillation from another of the training machines, they could be suffering from severe fatigue.”  
  
“Then we don’t have much time,” Sarah Jane declared. “Contact the Patriarchs’ Cathedral. I want to talk to them.”  
  
*  
  
Luke laid his hands on the panels in the sides of the cabinet; he could feel a low-level psychic field pulsing through him.  
  
_El’zak._  
  
Luke closed his eyes and smiled.  _Kez’ka_ , he thought back to her.  
  
In the cabinet opposite, Kez’ka flinched back a little.  _Easy, El’zak,_  she thought.  _No need to shout. Just let your mind reach out and touch the ship around us._  
  
Luke did as she said and let his mind wander. He could sense Kez’ka’s mind across from him, but there was also another mind; a vast consciousness which surrounded them both.  _Is that the Vagabond?_  
  
_Yes,_  Kez’ka replied. Her mind wrapped itself around Luke’s.  _Come and meet it._  
  
Together they lifted up towards the ceiling of the training chamber and the Vagabond’s will descended to engulf them. It was a vast presence, but gentle; becoming one with it was a little like being smothered by an enormous teddy bear.  
  
A mighty voice rumbled around them; there were no words, as such, but Luke felt that it welcomed them and wished them well. He let Kez’ka guide him through the ship’s will, showing him the various systems that they would be controlling with their united wills as a network of interconnecting pathways. Around them, the thoughts of the Vagabond swooped by, thundering and thrumming like whales in song.  
  
Luke drank all of this in, learning the system, so that within ten minutes he knew it better even that Kez’ka did. Suddenly, he broke his mind free of Kez’ka’s and plunged into the heart of the system. He jumped from thought to thought, seeking the central processing space, but before he could reach it he felt a chill in his heart.  
  
_Where are you going?_  
  
Luke barely noticed Kez’ka’s cry. In front of him a shadow rose up, huge and awful. It looked as though it were a part of the system, but the soft whale song of the Vagabond’s thoughts had been replaced by a terrible shrieking and the soft, ponderous will by a razor-edged darkness.  
  
_What is that?_  he gasped.  
  
_I… I don’t know,_  she admitted, her thoughts trembling in terror.  
  
_It feel like… rage,_  Luke realised.  _It’s like a construct of pure id; a manifestation of subconscious fury and desire. Is this what the Vagabond is, deep down?_  
  
_No!_  Kez’ka could not believe it. It can’t be… I just don’t know. Vagabond…!</i>  
  
With a rush, Luke felt his psyche dragged back into the training room. He stumbled out of the cabinet and would have fallen if someone hadn’t caught him.  
  
“Steady on, mate,” Clyde said. “Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  
  
“This one’s almost as bad,” Maria called.  
  
“Kez’ka!” Luke gasped. “Is she alright.”  
  
“She’ll live, I think,” Maria allowed.  
  
“Get off me!” Kez’ka demanded, pushing Maria away. “You shouldn’t be here; you’re not allowed.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever,” Maria snorted. “Like I want to be here. We came to get Luke away from your Patriarchs and their big business friends. You can go on being a slave if you want to.”  
  
“You’re lying,” Kez’ka insisted. “We are not slaves to the Vagabond; we are family.”  
  
“Sure,” Clyde agreed. “That’s why there are businessmen around the world sending children up here; a sudden surge of family feeling. Face it; your Vagabond is a very bad man.”  
  
“You’re wrong,” Luke insisted. “But… the Vagabond is wrong as well. Did you feel it, Kez’ka?”  
  
“I… I don’t know,” Kez’ka said. “I didn’t… It can’t have been…” She shook her head. “We should take these two to the control room to answer for their intrusion,” she decided.  
  
“That’s right!” Clyde said, whipping out his mobile phone. “If we can get these close to the controls, Mr Smith can hack into the Vagabond.”  
  
“Clyde!” Maria snapped.  
  
Luke snatched the phone from Clyde’s hand and then dashed for Maria. Maria tried to avoid him, but Kez’ka recovered from her daze to grab her arms and hold her still long enough for Luke to take the phone from her jacket pocket.  
  
“Hey!” Clyde protested.  
  
“Luke!” Maria called. “Don’t…!”  
  
“Vagabond!” Luke called, holding up his hand. “Eliminate hostile technology.” A flash of light engulfed his hand and after a moment he was holding nothing. A wisp of smoke drifted away towards the ventilators.  
  
“What have you done?” Clyde demanded.  
  
“The Vagabond must be protected,” Luke insisted.  
  
*  
  
The Patriarchs of the Tin Vagabond appeared on the screen before Sarah Jane.  
  
“Good morning, Gentlemen,” Sarah Jane said with rather more confidence than she felt. “My name is Sarah Jane Smith and I am speaking on behalf of the people of Earth.”  
  
“You speak for the Earth?” the Black Patriarch queried. “Yet you contact us using alien technology.”  
  
“Takes one to know one,” Sarah Jane retorted, “and I at least am human, which is more than I can say of you. I know what you plan to do and I will not allow you to do it,” she went on. “I demand that you return all of the children you have taken to Earth at once, take your Mechassiah and leave.”  
  
The Black Patriarch chuckled. “Miss Smith, I believe you have already seen that the children do not want to come back.”  
  
“Maybe so,” Sarah Jane allowed, “but then they don’t know what I know: That you’re planning to drain their lives away to fuel the Vagabond.”  
  
“Not drain away,” the White Patriarch assured her. “The children are of no use to us dead. They will merely be enslaved to power the Vagabond for us, as will their children and their children’s children.”  
  
“But why do you need the children at all?” Sarah Jane demanded. “The Mechassiah only uses the telekinetic energy to liberate the subatomic power contained in its cataclysm engines,” she said, reading from Mr Smith’s helpful autocue. “The prayers of the twelve of you should be more than enough to fuel the ship for any normal activities.”  
  
The shining figure at the top of the Patriarchs’ bench stood up. “We are not preparing the Vagabond for ‘normal’ activities,” he boomed. “The Vagabond hungers for war and worship. For millennia it has wandered, lost, but we will use your children to power its glorious apotheosis as a god of battle. Your world shall be the first conquest of the new Mechassianic Empire!”  
  
Sarah Jane drew herself up straight. “That’s what you think,” she said. “But I won’t let you. I will stop you and I will bring my son and everyone else on that ship home. Give up now and I will let you go in peace.”  
  
The Patriarchs just stared at her, as though trying to work out whether she was serious.  
  
“Your choice. Mr Smith; disconnect.”  
  
There was a long moment of silence.  
  
“What are you going to do now, Sarah Jane?” Mr Smith asked.  
  
Sarah Jane sat wearily on the step. “I don’t know,” she admitted.  
  
*  
  
On the Vagabond, the lights began to flash. “All Kindred report to your stations,” a Patriarch’s voice spoke. “The Vagabond is threatened; report to your stations immediately.”  
  
Maria looked up in amusement. “Sarah Jane,” she said.  
  
Clyde and Maria were each held by a couple of big siblings, but they seemed willing enough to take orders from Luke. Unfortunately, Luke seemed unwilling to order them to do anything useful, like let them go.  
  
“Quickly,” Luke said. “We must reach the control room.”  
  
The control room of the Vagabond was huge. Fifteen concentric rings of psychic focusing booths surrounded a high dais. The booths all faced outwards to the dome of the walls and ceiling, which formed a single, massive screen.  
  
“How many…?” Maria began.  
  
“One-hundred-and-twenty,” Luke replied. “Ordinarily the ship wouldn’t need that many, but this is the battle bridge, only used when the Vagabond goes onto a war footing.”  
  
*  
  
Sarah Jane paced up and down in the attic, waiting for something to happen. “Come on, Maria,” she whispered.  
  
*  
  
In the chapel of the Cathedral, the Patriarchs rose.  
  
“We shall travel to the Vagabond now,” the Shining Patriarch announced. “Our triumph should be enjoyed in the appropriate surroundings!”  
  
With a flash they vanished from the bench.  
  
*  
  
Maria and Clyde were held tightly as the Kindred stepped into the booths. They could feel the steady throb of power building in the air around them.  
  
The Patriarchs appeared on the dais in a flash of transmit energy. “It is time,” the Shining One declared. “Activate control circuits.”  
  
Arcing bolts of energy leaped from booth to booth and the screen erupted in a swirl of psychedelic light. Maria felt a bit of a headache coming on, but the children in their booths cried out as though in sudden pain.  
  
“What are you doing?” Kez’ka demanded.  
  
“Taking control,” the Black Patriarch explained. “You are mere human children; you can not be trusted to command the Vagabond.”  
  
“But… you said that we were special,” she sobbed.  
  
“You are nothing but fuel,” the White Patriarch assured her.  
  
“No!” she screamed. “I won’t let that be true.”  
  
“There is no need to fight,” the Black Patriarch told her kindly. “We will still present you with everything you want: A home, a family. We will need another generation; you and the boy can be the founders of that generation!”  
  
“There is nothing you can do anyway,” the Shining Patriarch added snidely. “Your higher brain functions are ours to control.”  
  
“Higher brain functions?” Kez’ka asked. “What about  _lower_  functions?”  
  
“Kez’ka, no!” Luke snapped.  
  
“What is it?” Maria asked.  
  
“Just… get down!” Luke shouted. “Don’t let her see you!”  
  
Kez’ka squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment; when they opened again they were pure black.  
  
“Okay, I’ve seen that on the telly,” Clyde said. “Black eyes is never good.”  
  
“We found a force of pure rage and instinct in the heart of the Vagabond,” Luke explained. “She’s tapped into that subconscious fury to overcome the Patriarchs’ mental control.”  
  
With a hooting cry of pure anger, Kez’ka burst from her booth. She turned at once and glowered up at the Patriarchs.  
  
“Stop her!” the Shining Patriarch demanded. At once the guards who had been watching Maria and Clyde ran towards Kez’ka.  
  
“Quick!” Luke called. “In the pocket of my robe.”  
  
Maria ran over and dug out… “My phone! But I thought…”  
  
“I had to let the Vagabond destroy something,” Luke explained, “but it didn’t look closely at exactly  _what_  it was destroying.”  
  
“Then… you weren’t on their side. You were just pretending to believe in the Vagabond.”  
  
Luke smiled. “I was willing the suspension of disbelief,” he told her. “I just couldn’t risk saying anything around Kez’ka.”  
  
With a cry, one of the guards went flying past them.  
  
“I can see you wouldn’t want to make that girl mad,” Clyde agreed. “So what did you blow up?”  
  
“ _Your_  phone,” Luke said.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Never mind!” Maria gasped. “We need to get this to the control panel.” She looked around. “What is the control panel?”  
  
“That’s the screen,” Luke told her. “Go; I’ll keep the security systems off-balance.” Another guard flew past. “If they have any attention to spare from Kez’ka.”  
  
*  
  
“Sarah Jane.”  
  
Sarah Jane sat bolt upright on the attic step. “What is it, Mr Smith?”  
  
“I have received a contact signal from Maria Jackson’s mobile phone. I am establishing contact with the Tin Vagabond.”  
  
Sarah Jane grabbed her bag. “Get me up there,” she ordered.  
  
“Accessing Vagabond’s transmat system,” Mr Smith announced.  
  
*  
  
Kez’ka sprang up onto the dais. The Patriarchs raised their arms and summoned their force fields, but they were generated by the psychic energies of the children in the booths and the subconscious force which possessed Kez’ka tore straight through them.  
  
With a flash, Sarah Jane appeared on the battle bridge.  
  
“Mum!” Luke called. “Deactivate the psychic focusing booths!”  
  
Sarah Jane took a moment to take in her surroundings and then aimed her sonic lipstick at the nearest booth. She thumbed the trigger and the sonic wave oscillated the molecules of the controls until the system shut itself down.  
  
Patriarchs were raining down from the dais, some leaping and others being thrown.  
  
“Stop this!” the Shining Patriarch demanded. He strode forward, the light radiating from his face. For a moment, Kez’ka recoiled, dazzled. “You are a troublesome child,” he said. He held out his hand and a force field surrounded Kez’ka, pressing in on her on all sides.  
  
Kez’ka howled in rage.  
  
At that moment, all across the ship, the focusing booths shut down. The children stumbled free and the flow of psychic energy to the Patriarchs dried up.  
  
Kez’ka sprang at the Shining Patriarch, knocking him down. The other Patriarchs lay scattered about in assorted states of unconsciousness. Kez’ka lifted her hand to deliver a savage, killing blow.  
  
Luke pulled free of his booth and at once started to climb to the dais. “Kez’ka!” he called, and the furious girl turned her black eyes on him. She peeled her lips back from her teeth and snarled, but held off from the death blow.  
  
“Kez’ka…” Luke said warily.  
  
The girl dropped the Shining Patriarch and prowled towards Luke, hands held at her sides with her fingers curled into claws.  
  
“Catie,” Luke said.  
  
The girl paused and Luke moved towards her, lifting his hands to the sides of her head. “Join with me,” Luke whispered, and at once his eyes turned black.  
  
Sarah Jane picked up Maria’s phone. “Mr Smith; what’s happening to Luke?”  
  
“ _There appears to be a parasitic entity within the consciousness of the Vagabond,_ ” the computer replied. “ _A negative force feeding on the telekinetic energy. It appears to have locked on to Luke Smith and the girl and is attempting to control their actions. Luke Smith is fighting the influence, but losing.”_  
  
“Can we reason with it?”  
  
Maria shook her head. “We heard them talking in the training booths; Luke was talking about a  _subconscious_  force. That’s pretty much  _un_ reasonable, right?”  
  
“Right.” Sarah Jane thought for a moment. “Mr Smith, isolate the negative force within the system; cut off its power.”  
  
“ _Yes, Sarah Jane._ ”  
  
Sarah Jane slipped a long, silver tube from her pocket. She aimed it at the dais and squeezed the base of the tube. Maria felt a low whine in the back of her brain. After a moment, Luke and Kez’ka collapsed on the dais.  
  
  
  
“Telepathic inhibitor,” Sarah Jane explained. “Largely harmless to humans; less harmless to negative telepathic entities. Clyde, Maria; get them down,” she said. “Mr Smith; is there enough transmat energy to shift the Patriarchs?”  
  
“ _Yes, Sarah Jane. I shall move them back to their Cathedral and disable its offensive systems._ ”  
  
Sarah Jane nodded. “Once we’ve got them out of the way, we can think about getting the children home.”  
  
*  
  
It took almost two days to get things organised, even with the cooperation of the Tin Vagabond itself. The Patriarchs were quickly dispatched in their Cathedral, under the orders of the Vagabond to keep away in future.  
  
“It never wanted war,” Catie – she had resumed the use of her Earth name after the disappointment of the Patriarchs’ betrayal – explained. “The desire of the Shining Ones – desire for power, thirst for war – infected it, created that dark creature.”  
  
“A suppressed manifestation of the Patriarchs’ id,” Luke added. “It started swallowing their prayers and giving nothing back, demanding more and more. When the Shining Patriarch told everyone the Vagabond wanted war he made the negative force even stronger.”  
  
“So, what happens now?” Sarah Jane wondered. “You’ve been talking to the Vagabond; what will it do?”  
  
“We’re going to explore the stars,” Catie replied.  
  
“We?”  
  
“A lot of us don’t have anything to go back for,” Catie explained. “Most of the children have family waiting for them, but my family are all dead; murdered by… by the Cybermen,” she said.  
  
“But there must be something for you,” Sarah Jane insisted.  
  
“There is,” Catie assured her. “There’s the Vagabond, and the Kindred. Just because the Patriarchs were corrupt, it doesn’t mean that the Vagabond is a bad thing.” She put a hand on a control panel. “Twenty-two of us want to stay,” she went on. “We’re going to keep things democratic; not let a new Shining Patriarch take over.”  
  
“An even number could be difficult for democracy,” Luke told her. “They’d be better off with twenty-one.”  
  
Catie took his hand. “We’d be better still with a prime number,” she reminded him. “Like… twenty-three.”  
  
Luke looked at her, then at Sarah Jane. “I can’t,” he said. “I’ve got a family here on Earth.”  
  
“I know,” Catie sighed. “I guess I’ll see you around.”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
Sarah Jane gave a soft cough and caught Maria and Clyde by the elbows. “I think this is our cue to spend a moment checking the transmat,” she said.  
  
“Luke Smith,” Clyde said, shaking his head. “A girl on every spaceship.”  
  
Maria shot a look over her shoulder. Luke and Catie stood close, their heads together and tears in their eyes. “I don’t think you need to feel jealous.”


End file.
